Kiss Me
by WildMustangShadowfax
Summary: COMPLETE Alanna realizes her feelings for George, but Jon doesn't care. And when Roger grows close to the answer, Alanna must fight for everything she loves, and cares for... Until it's too late.
1. Kiss Me

_**Disclaimer**: Yadda yadda yadda! Do I have to tell you I'm not Tamora Pierce again? Well I'm not! So don't look at me like that! I don't own anything! Waaah! But whatever..._

_**A/N**: So dreadfully sorry! I was bored again. Here is more pointless fluff. Though this time it's an Alanna/George. So thanks for reading. Oh. And it's sort of George's side of the story._

George had known since before he kissed her that he loved her. He had just _known _that he loved little Alanna. The girl pretending to be a boy. Now he had proof. Unfortunately she hadn't looked to happy when she had stomped off to the palace, not even looking back at him.

Rolling over onto his stomach George sighed. He was in his room at the Dancing Dove, lying on his bed and moping. Normally he would have been downstairs with the rest of the thieves, but he couldn't bring himself to go down there and drink. He knew he had found love, even if she didn't love him back...

A tentative knock on the door pulled George temporarily out of his mope. Not for long though. "Go away." he called out in a lazy voice.

"George!" Wait. That was Alanna's voice. _Alanna_'s. In an instant George was off his bed and charging across the room. He pulled the door open. The look on her face was enough to tell him what he looked like, (like someone who never brushed his hair, probably,) but he didn't care.

"You aren't afraid of me?" George asked rather more coldly than he had wanted to. Realizing his mistake he apologized quickly. "I'm sorry! That didn't come out the way I meant it to. It was sup--"

But Alanna had reached up and put a finger to George's lips, to stop his blubbering. "You know," she said, keeping her finger firmly in place. "I think, I might have been the one who should be sorry." George could see the effort it was costing her to apologize, but he wasn't going to complain!

Without really thinking about what he was doing George pulled Alanna into the room, and closed the door behind her. He turned around and looked down at Alanna. Softly his hand ran through those flaming red-short-cut locks of hair.

"If you really think you should be the one to apologize, then kiss me!" George demanded.

With only a seconds hesitation Alanna pulled George down to the right level and pressed her lips softly against his. Stunned by the action George just hung there stupefied. But at last he came around. He put his arms around Alanna's neck and kissed her back.

When she pulled away from his she was almost panting. She seemed to be... _enjoying _herself. The next thing she said shocked George. "Kiss me." She ordered.

George grinned and kissed her passionately, until the two fell onto his bed, kissing each other passionately.

* * *

Ok. It's just another fluff story. It's for George fans of course. I think it's just going to be a one shot, but if you want more, let me know. I might be willing to make it more if I get enough positive feedback. 


	2. Just a Dream

_**Disclaimer**: Why at the beginning of each chapter? Why? Whatever. Not mine still!_

_**A/N**: Still George's half of the story!_

George rolled halfway onto his side, but stopped short when he ran into something warm. All at once it came back to him. He smiled softly, his eyes still shut tight. He could feel the light flooding his room, falling onto his face, but hebarely noticed it. His arm slid around Alanna's waist, and he heard her sigh with contentment.

Satisfied with it all, George leaned his head against the soft pillow of his bed, and fell back asleep. But his dreams were haunted. Haunted with visions of... Jon? Yes. That was right. His dreams were filled with Jon. The prince sat on his father's throne, a crown on his head, and scepter in his hand. But wait! Jonathan had turned into the Duke Roger, cackling cruelly. There was something dark and human shaped on the floor in front of him...

Alanna. Dead.

George sat bolt upright, sweat pouring down his face, his arm still around Alanna's waist.

He slid out of bed, doing his best not to disturb Alanna. Walking across the wood floors he sighed quietly and leaned against the mantle over his personal fire-place.

"Just a dream." He whispered quietly. "That's all." But somehow this didn't make him feel any better. The sweat on his face was sticky and cold now. Sighing deeply he walked over to the foot window through once Alanna had climbed to tell him that she was a girl.

George smirked at the thought of that day. How he had been amazed that she was a girl... He opened the window and leaned down against the sill, thinking about everything. Slowly, deeply, the King of Thieves inhaled, taking in all of the outside scents. He watched a tree sway in the breeze, and listened as a horse whickered softly in the barns.

"George?" He turned around quickly. Alanna was propped up on her elbow in the bed, her flaming red hair sticking up in odd angles. "Come back to bed."

George shook his head, smiling slightly. "It's past dawn Alanna. You'd better get back to the palace."

The girl sat stiffly upright and looked at George, sleep clogging her vision. She rubbed it out of her eyes with her fingers and stood up, swearing like a guardsman.

"You're right." She said sighing. She walked over to George and kissed him sweetly. Her lips tasted so good... "I'd better go." She got dressed quickly and dashed out of the door, leaving George wondering if he'd ever see her alive again.

* * *

Ok. Did this suck? I wasn't going to make it longer, but two people asked, so I had to oblige. If I have to make it longer, there's going to be a bit more of a plot, and a bit less fluff, but I will do my best to keep it fluffy. Note please: the next part will be a sort of Jon chapter. Bye! Thanks for reading! Oh, and sorry the chapters are so short. I just don't really do fluff too well. But you guys obviously think I do since you asked for more. So yeah... Bye!


	3. You Know

_**Disclaimer**: Not Tamora Pierce. These are her characters and places, not mine. OKAY? Thank you. Waah! I want it to be mine, but it's not. Sigh._

_**A/N**: This part is Jon's point of view, type of thing. _

Jon could do nothing but sit on the bed in his bedroom and run a hand nervously through his black hair, again and again. He hated to admit it, but he was worried for Alanna. She had said that she was going to see George the night before, but somehow, Jon didn't entirely _trust _George. He was the King of Thieves, wasn't he?

A loud thudding noise and frantic breathing made Jon get off of his bed and knock at the door that separated his room from Alanna's.

"I'm in a hurry!" Was her snappish reply when she heard the knock on the door. Why did Jonathan always have to pick such inopportune moments to knock on her door. She was already late for her classes as it was!

But Jon opened the door anyway and walked in, closing the door softly behind him. Alanna stopped dashing around and looked at her knight-master and best friend. "Where were you?" he demanded, quietly.

"At the Dancing Dove." Alanna replied brusquely. "And besides, what part of your business is it, where I am all night?"

Jon rolled his eyes at the ceiling. Crossing his arms over his chest, defensively he replied. "The part where that's what best friends do!" he replied, anger hinting in his tone.Then he scowled. "You were with _George _all night?"

Alanna nodded curtly, and turned away from him. She dashed over to the corner of her room and brushed her hair out quickly, before sitting down on her bed and yanking her boots on.

Jon sat down next to her, his shoulder's hunched up by his ears, his hands propped against the edge of her bed. "I'm sorry." he said. "But Alanna, I do have to wonder how... safe, George is."

Alanna stopped pulling her boot on, and looked the Prince in the eye. "Safe?" she repeated bluntly. "What about George is _unsafe_?"

"Maybe when he starts doing this!" Jon pulled Alanna towards him and kissed her. At first it felt forced, but he seemed to melt into the kiss. Alanna pushed against him and pulled back.

"You saw?" she demanded coldly, referring to George kissing her outside of the palace behind the tree. Jon nodded. Alanna screamed angrily, and stomped out of the room, carrying one boot in her hand.

* * *

Ok. What did you think? Please! Don't hit me with your noodle! Please note: I will try to make the next chapter longer so that Drop Your Oboe won't hit me with a really big cooked noodle. Hee hee. Ok, got that cleared up!

And also, please read my mini-series. I know it's not a fluff story, but I'm trying to incorporate more into it. And I worked really hard on them. So if you're actually going read them, they go in the following order; Dying Kingdom of Dreams first, then Only Once Royal second, and finally the one that's in progress, Squire Princess. So please, **_please _**read theose! I worked really hard! Thanks, and fluff is coming in them if you're wondering!


	4. Sticky Spots

_**Disclaimer**: Here we go again. Once more, not mine, T P's. I know, I abbreviated, but I don't want to spell it out!_

_**A/N**: I hope this chapter can be longer than the others. It finally, is told from Alanna's heart, though not point of view, and then switches to George's._

She stumbled back, the sword slicing slightly into her thigh. Her reflexes were too slow just then.

"What was that?" The training master demanded, waving his hands wildly, his voice angered. "Tell me Alan, what _was _that? You used to be the best student besides Alex, now you're all dumb!"

Alanna winced at the cruelty of the Master's words, but secretly, she knew he was right. Ever since she and George had spent that night together two weeks ago, her mind had been elsewhere. This fact wasn't helped by the fact that Jon kept cornering her to talk to her, and try to kiss her. And for him, cornering her wasn't difficult, she was his squire after all.

"Sorry." Alanna grumbled, bending over to look at her leg. The cut was long and shallow, bleeding sluggishly. She knew she would be fine, but just to make matters quicker, she called on some of her Gift, healing it to a scab in seconds.

"Sorry?" the training Master repeated. "I never want to hear that word again." He turned his back on Alanna, his hands on his hips, obviously fuming without taking it out on anyone. He turned around, pointed at two of the boys and ordered them to take the ring.

Alanna walked off to court, dejectedly sitting down next to a boy in the class. She sighed heavily, her anger burning away silently inside her.

When she turned to leave after class with the rest of the boys', the Master called her back. Turning around, she strode towards him, Lightening held loosely at her side. "Yes Master?" she asked, bowing deeply.

"What is going on?" he asked, placing his hands on his hips, and making a face. "Alan, I want the truth. For the past two weeks, you haven't fought like the warrior that I know you are! What is up with that?"

Alanna gritted her teeth, replying as calmly as she could, "Really sir, it's nothing, just personal matters."

The older man shook his head, showing his obvious disgust. "Very well. Go then, Alan. But I want you to talk to someone, fix these problems you've been having, or at least don't let them interfere in class."

Alanna nodded, bowed, and walked back to the palace as fast as possible without looking like she was running away.

* * *

"What's the matter?" George sat on his bed at the Dancing Dove, watching as Alanna chewed on her fingernails. She had been like that since she had showed up half an hour earlier, and he was growing frustrated.

She didn't answer him at all, but carried on, nibbling at her fingernails with a precise and gentle action of her teeth.

"Alanna?" George said, his voice growing strained. He slid off the edge of the bed, and walked over to the chair she was in. He pulled her to her feet, kissing her, wrapping her in his arms. She seemed not to care. She sunk back into the chair when he let her go.

Rolling his eyes in impatience, George sat back down on the bed, pulling Alanna over to it with him. "What is the matter?" he asked, the annoyance clear in his voice.

"Nothing." Alanna said. No matter how many years she had lied for, she couldn't seem to get this one across... "It's just..." then the whole story came out; about Jon cornering her, trying to kiss her, how she was failing most of her classes all at once, how the Duke Rogerhad taken an interest in her personal affairs... all of it.

But only one part registered in George's mind. "Jon tried to what?" he demanded. He tried to breathe slowly and calmly, but it seemed to come in irregular gasps no matter what he did.

"It's no big deal," Alanna said quickly. "I don't feel that way about him... but I do about you."

George grinned, and pulled Alanna down onto the bed, kissing her soft and sweet, savoring their moment of passion.

* * *

Well, that was the chapter. I am finally getting to a plot! Duke Roger is starting to take an interest in Alanna's "personal affairs". You'll just have to figure out exactly what that means... next time.

_PLEASE! _You promised! Stop that Drop Your Oboe! I made it longer! You have no right to hit me with your over-large noodle! HELP!

Hee hee. Bye for now.


	5. Early Hours of Dawn

_**Disclaimer**: Must I say it again? My name is Kate, not Tamora! And my last name... Well, let's just say it isn't Pierce. So these are her characters! My plot. Thanks for reading once more._

Alanna rummaged under the bed in her room, desperate for her hair brush. It was just before dawn, but she wanted to be gone from her room before Jon woke up. At the rate she was going though, she was afraid she didn't stand a chance. Also, she was making a lot of noise, and was worried she would wake Jonathan up.

Her hand brushed against something soft, and she pulled at it, wondering what it could be. Sitting back on her heels she examined the object. It was soft, but not squishy. Smooth, but not delicate. She looked at it, turning it carefully over in her worn hands. It was... marble.

Blinking in confusion, she set the piece of marble on her bed, looking at it for some trace of shape. She picked it up again, standing up and turning it over gently. Two of the sides broke from the rest, and fell to the ground. The following clink made Alanna wince, hoping against hope that Jon was still asleep.

Straining her ears for any trace of sound, she ignored the piece of marble in her hands. The piece of marble with a shape now.

Sighing with contentment that Jon was still asleep, she looked back at the piece of marble in her hands. It was shaped like a heart...

She shut her eyes and breathed deeply. She knew that George couldn't get his hands on marble short of stealing, but she also knew that he wouldn't steal for her. And plus, the marble was so fine cut, no one in Corus did such handiwork. This did mean that the only person it could be from was Jonathan, unless she had a secret admirer. And that she doubted, with no one knowing that she was a girl.

Alanna let a groan slip out, but came up short of moaning, wanting to keep Jon asleep. She tossed the marble heart back onto her bed, and started feeling under her bed again, searching for a hair-brush.

At last she found the brush, just as dawn began to seep through the window in her room. Quickly she brushed her hair out, and dressed in her squire's uniform. Peeking into the mirror she brushed her bangs away from her face, grinned, and grabbed her armor belt and Lightning's sheath.

She padded softly across the stone floor of her room, her worn boots making little tono noise on it. She opened the door, savoring the fact that it didn't creak like some of the squire's doors.

Alanna turned to face the door, shutting it as quietly as she could manage. Breathing out quietly, she clipped Lightning's sheath onto her armor belt, and tiptoed off down the long winding corridor.

_Wait! _She heard Faithful's mind-voice before she saw the little cat. The black furred, violet eyed cat came trotting towards her from the end of the corridor to which she was heading. He came around the corner slowly enough, but he broke into a cat gallop upon coming around the corner. He sat down at Alanna's feet, and meowed quietly to be picked up.

Alanna reached down and scooped Faithful up, slipping him onto her shoulder. "What's the matter?" she whispered, sensing that for some reason she was supposed to be quiet.

EvenFaithful's mindvoicesounded slow and quiet. _Duke Roger and Gary are down there. They've been there for a while. They aren't speaking, just staring... _

Alanna raised her eyebrows in wonder and anger. "You sound worried," she said, quietly.

She watched as the small black-cat nodded. _I am. _he replied tensely. _That Gary boy has brains, but the Duke is far more powerful. _

"Yeah, he is," Alanna whispered to herself. She loosened Lighting in it's sheath before she set off purposefully down the hall.

She stopped at the corner, digging herself against the edge of the wall. For once she was grateful for the torch that was at the end corner of that corridor, (she usually wasn't thankful for it in the early morning, when she was tired, because she often ran into it and then would swear loudly.)

Alanna put her back to the wall, squeezing herself against the wall next to the torch. Faithful hopped from her shoulder and onto the ground.

Turning her shoulder into the wall, she peeked out between the torch and the wall. Faithful had been right. The Duke Roger and Gary stood in the hallway, not speaking at all. But both staring at each other. Roger looked slightly mean and cruel, but Alanna knew his true cruelty was much worse. Gary appeared to be fuming.

Alanna bit into her lip, using the pain to concentrate. The walls of that corridor were wide, and lit torches lined the corridor, though they would be going out any second since they were magic and sensed dawn. Light was beginning to flood from the enormous windows that viewed the garden on the left side.

Instinctively she reached into her shirt, and fingered the ember-stone, gift of the Goddess. Instantly orange light flooded the whole corridor in front of her. She blinked a few times, and let go of the stone. The light vanished. She held onto it again, the light reappeared. It glowed particularly strong around Roger and Gary...

_It's magic! _She realized suddenly. She took a deep steadying breath, and returned the ember-stone to under her shirt.

Alanna licked her lips, bit into her lip, loosened Lightning in it's sheath a little more, and then stepped out from behind the torch and into the corridor.

Roger looked up at her, but Gary continued to glare at the Duke. A grin spread wide across Roger's face. As usual, he seemed kind, but Alanna could guess that he was working magic against Gary.

"Alan!" Roger said, spreading his arms wide, as if to hug her. He stepped away from the wall and walked over to her, stopping about four paces away. "I was wondering what to do." he said, turning his face into worry. "Gareth here appears to have had something go wrong. I wasn't sure if I should get help or stay with him. It's so good you're up at this hour."

Alanna's face turned stony. She bit into her lip, wondering what the Duke was up to. Ignoring him, she pushed past him, her shoulder ramming his upper arm, and walked over to Gary.

"Gary?" Alanna asked, snapping her fingers inches from his face. He just continued to glower at where the Duke had been standing before, though he did blink. "It's me, Alan." She moved to stand behind him, and put her hands on his shoulders, shaking them slightly.

She sighed and walked to stand in front of him. She looked into his face, and couldn't help but wonder what the Duke had done to him. She reached for his hand, and let her magic flow into him, searching for what Roger had done.

Alanna knew she was vulnerable with her magic flowing through her, her eye's shut, but what choice did she have?

Searching inside her former sponsor, she found a trace of Roger's magic, barely detectable, but definitely there. She tried to sense what it was doing, but couldn't. Roger had hid his only trace of cruelty well.

A hiss, a yelp and a roaring string of swears made Alanna pull herself from Gary's mind. She spun around, loosening Lightning into her hand. Roger swung around, trying to pry Faithful from his shoulder, screaming out various curses the whole time.

Alanna put Lightning back into it's sheath, and ran over next to Roger, trying to relieve the Duke of Faithful's claws.

_Don't! _Faithful snapped in mind speech. Alanna couldn't ask "why", but Faithful continued anyway. _He was trying to throw magic poison at you. It was a trap! Killing you was his plan!_

Alanna took a step back, her mind reeling from the information. Her face was confused and angered, but her mind pulsed with righteous anger the whole time.

"What are you waiting for?" Roger shrieked angrily, breaking Alanna from her thoughts. "Help me, Alan!"

She would have thought the look of uncertain anger and confusion on her face would have shut the Duke up, but it didn't.

Alanna decided to make a quick and risky decision. She walked forward quickly, pulling Faithful brutally from the Duke's shoulder. She knew it wasn't the smartest thing, but she decided that it would be best for Roger not to have anymore reason to distrust her.

The Duke stumbled back as Alanna took Faithful in her hands. Alanna stroked Faithful's glistening black fur. Roger looked down, running a finger over the tattered and bloody material on his shoulder. When he moved his finger back, only short scars marked his skin, but the material on his shoulder was still in rags from Faithful's claws.

Roger looked at Alanna like he might explode, but then his face broke into a smile. "I thought for a minute you were going to let this cat kill me." he said, smiling warmly. He didn't add, Alanna noticed, that it was _her _cat that had been trying to kill him.

"Yeah." Alanna whispered, her own voice disbelieving. She had just saved the man she hated most from her own cat.

She shook her head and turned to Gary. He was still standing there, just glaring coldly at the spot where the Duke had stood earlier.

"Come on," Alanna said, grabbing Gary by the right arm. "Let's get him to the infirmary."

Roger nodded, though Alanna thought she saw a momentary flicker of anger on his face. She adjusted Faithful to her right shoulder, and stuck her left arm around Gary's waist. Duke Roger stuck his arm around Gary's waist too, and the two of them dragged the knight towards the infirmary.

* * *

Well? What did you think? I know, no fluff. I promise more next chapter though. But since it's George she can't always be at the Dancing Dove. And here's my plot. The next chapter will be George's half of the story, okay? 


	6. Faithful's Order

_**Disclaimer**: Haha! I'm back! Okay, never mind. I also have not come back to writing my stories as Tammy P. Forgive me, but I have not. We left this story off with Alanna finding out Roger tried to kill her. Now we move on to George._

George sat at his usual seat at the Dancing Dove, but for once, he was not surrounded by the other thieves. He had told them to go home that night, not being in a mood to party. He sipped at his drink.

"How could I be so stupid?" he whispered quietly. He drained the rest of his drink, and called for the bartender to refill it.

A purr echoed up from his lap. _Now really, _Faithful scorned, washing a black paw with his little pink tongue. His violet eyes glowed in the light from the fire place as he went on, _It's only that Gary boys fault, and Roger's, of course. _

George chuckled quietly stroking the cat's black head. "You're to damn smart for me Faithful." He murmured. The cat purred with contentment. "But either way, what do we do about Roger?"

Faithful stopped with his paw midway to his mouth. Slowly, he lowered it back onto George's lap, and looked up into the thieves eyes. _We? _he repeated, his voice tense.

"Yeah, us," George said, nodding.

_Nothing, _Faithful said wisely, _Roger of Conté is Alanna's job, not ours. She chose this life, she can defend it._

George scowled at the cat, taking his large whisky from the bartender and thumping it onto the table-top. "Now wait a minute!" he hissed dangerously. "What kind of a gift from the Goddess are you?"

Faithful rolled striking amethyst eyes at the King of Thieves. _I was sent to watch out for her, not to save her life every second of my life! _he retorted, irritably.

"Alanna chose this life, yes," George said, his temper rising, "but she didn't choose for Duke Roger to come along and try to kill the Prince!"

Faithful sneezed in what sounded like a cat snort. _Excuse me! _he growled. _But I thought you were deathly jealous of Prince Johnny boy? _

George sniffed deeply, picked up his glass of whisky and took a large gulp from it. Slamming it back onto the table he hissed, "What if I am? It's none of your business... Faithful."

Faithful rolled his eyes, the violet catching in the light of the fire and illuminating rather eerily. _I am faithful! _the cat snapped. _That's why I'm here! And it is my business if you're jealous of Prince Johnny boy. I came to protect Alanna, and I have to protect her from brainless lovers too!_

"What's that supposed to mean?" George asked, his anger inches from bursting point.

_It's supposed to mean, _Faithful said sagely, _That you are madly in love with my mistress who happens to be fifteen!_

"So?" George snapped, lowering his voice and glaring at a man in a dark robe who watched him curiously. "I love Alanna, and she loves me."

_She's still too young, _Faithful retorted, his violet eyes flashing with anger. _And anyway, I'm here about something different. _

George rolled his hazel eyes and glared at the ceiling. "Finally, we get somewhere," he muttered towards the ceiling.

Faithful pretended as though he didn't hear this comment. _As we speak, or perhaps not, Prince Johnny boy is trying to seduce your love. He was when I left anyway. _

George shoved his chair back, knocking Faithful from his lap. The cat tumbled to the ground, landing in a crouched position. Hissing and snarling, Faithful clawed his way up George's leg and demanded to be held.

George grabbed the cat, threw some money on the table forhis drinks, and charged upstairs. "Tell me what you know." he ordered the cat, throwing his door open and searching for his "monk" costume. He yanked the costume on and grabbed the cat off the floor, tucking him into the folds of material.

Grabbing his window, he slid onto the roof, and dropped carefully to the ground. Faithful growled his anger, but stayed tucked tight in the thieves clothes.

George grabbed a bay mare called Fara, out of the stables and slung himself onto her already put on saddle. He wheeled the messenger horse around, and set off full gallop for the palace, anger spurring him on.

"Tell!" George ordered the cat wrapped in the folds of his cloak. He turned Fara down a long and empty back lane, and kept her moving forward.

_Jonathan loves her too, _Faithful said, his mind voice strained as he was jostled in George's cloak. _He has for a long time. Ever since before he knew that she was a girl. He told me that he thought he was mad back then. Then he found out she was a girl. But he forced himself not to think of her like that. Lady Delia came along, and he fell for her charm. But, well... Then he met the real Alanna. _

George's face was cold and tight. "She's mine," he snarled.

Faithful sighed. _George, _he said, his voice strangled by the cloak, _If you really love Alanna, then you let her have who _she _wants. _

George gritted his teeth, but had to admit the annoying cat was right. If he really did love her, then he would have to let her have who she wanted, not be with him if she didn't want too.

* * *

I know! I promised romance! But next chapter, I promise! Romance in next chapter. I promise! Bye for now! 


	7. Passion of Kisses

_**Disclaimer**: No place like home, no place like home, no place like home at my giant home in wherever the heck I live. I wish, but... NOT! That would be if I was Tammy P, but I'm not, just Kate. _

_**A/N**: Uh, some of my friends told me I should be an author, and someday I want to be, yes. But they think I should now. And I know it's just supportive friendship, but I was just wondering if, based on this story, and all my others, what you guys think. Constructive criticism is welcome, actually, it's what I'm looking for at this point._

Alanna was furious at Jon. Once more he had tried to woo her, to seduce her into loving him. How many times would she have to tell the man that she did not love him? That she loved George?

And yet, her mind couldn't help but be unsettled. Alanna knew a part of her, a very small part of her, was deeply, madly even, in love with the prince of Tortall. She moved her feet on the end of her bed, and leaned up against the headboard, wondering what she could do.

A sharp knock sounded against her door, telling her what to do at that moment anyway. Alanna stood up, and strode over to her door, unbolting it and praying all the while that it was not Jon.

The door slid open, and a grin drew across her face when she saw the "monk" that was in the hallway. "Hullo, George," she whispered softly. Faithful leaped from the folds of George's monk robe, and onto her shoulder, hissing his annoyance.

George stepped into the room, and drew his hood off, smiling warmly at Alanna, who closed the door and boltedthe doortightly. "A certain cat," George whispered softly, all his anger forgotten, "tells me that Jonathan was attempting to seduce you?" His eyebrows creased in amusement, and he smiled teasingly at her.

Alanna shook her head, a grin unfurling on her face. "Yes," she whispered, reaching out with her hand to trace George's almost handsome face, "But you know he will never succeed, not when I love you."

George pulled his monk robe off, and lay it aside in the big armchair. He reached out, pulling Alanna close to him, kissing her sweetly. She returned his kiss, tasting passion on her tongue.

The two fell onto the bed, their hearts one, their minds one. George pulled his head back for a second, leaning over her. "Kiss me," he whispered, a smile on his face. Alanna reached up, and pulled his head down, her lips touching his.

When she let go, a rare giggle escaped her own lips. "Kiss me," she whispered back, remembering all to well the first time she had known that she loved George Cooper, King of Thieves.

With these words free, and floating in the air, George reached out to undo her shirt laces, as her fingers did the same.

* * *

Well? How was that? I know it was short, but I really can only write fluff for as short while. But the next chapter will be GOOD, I promise. I know just what's going to happen. Also, as said at the beginning, please, at this point in my writing anything, what I need most is constructive criticism. And tell me what you think about me being an author. Should I write a book? I know, I know, this isn't original, but just, how's my writing style and all? Well, bye for now! 


	8. A Cat's Judgement

_**Disclaimer**: I wish I was! But I'm not! pouts sad isn't it? I'm still just Kate, though I'm hoping to be an author!_

_**A/N**: For those who didn't see it in the last chapter, I am thinking of becoming an author, I want to know what you think. Thanks, criticism welcome!_

Alanna sighed softly and pulled on her shirt. It was just before dawn, and she wasn't usually up that early, but she had to be in time to get George out so she wouldn't be found out. For a reason she was still unsure of, George had seemed overly jealous the night before. She knew what he was like, and this meant that she knew he wasn't usually jealous. Knowing this forced her to question why he had been worried about Jon getting his way...

A purr echoed across the room. Alanna yanked her golden tunic rather roughly on, and turned around to glare at Faithful. He gave a small cat shrug, and blinked his violet eyes at her.

_You know all too well why George was jealous, _Faithful chided, sitting up and stretching his front legs out on the armchair. His claws dug into the material and made soft snapping noises as he broke bits of it free. _You're his, and he wants it that way. He's a rational man, but he doesn't give up so easily on things he wants. _

Alanna put her hand across her mouth and nose, stifling a snort. She walked over to where the cat was perched, and knelt down in front of him. Black hair fell off on her fingers as she scratched him behind a black ear. He purred contentedly. "Maybe I do," she whispered softly, "maybe I don't. Either way, Faithful, I do know this; If I really wanted Jon, George would let me go."

This caused Faithful to stand up, and meet her violet eyes with his own. His mind voice was sarcastic when he spoke. _If you're right, I'll be utterly amazed. _

Alanna rolled her eyes, the perfect image of an irritated squire. "Faithful," she hissed, not wanting to awaken George yet, "you know just as well as I what he's like, he'd let me go... if it was what I really wanted..." her voice trailed off, and she glanced at the still sleeping form of George.

Faithful hissed, bringing Alanna's attention back to him. She frowned at him. _I know what you mean, _the cat said, his voice almost urgent, _Something's deathly wrong, Alanna, you and I both know it... _he trailed off, his mind voice whirling away to nothing.

Alanna looked at the cat, shocked by his behavior, but he had fallen silent, his violet eyes glowing in... fear.

She stood up, and turned around, her own eyes glowing in the with the same fear she had seen in Faithful's.

"So," the voice seemed to echo within her mind and Alanna tried to shield out the loudness of it, "We meet at last." Light shimmered and flared before her, it all swirled around and around, forming a vortex of bubbling white lights. When the lights cleared a man stood before her. He was shorter than she, with ragged gray hair and a very chubby figure. His face was round and rosy, and his mud-colored robe was made of rich looking silk.

"Who are you?" Alanna demanded, her eyes glowing in fear of the man before her. She couldn't put her finger on it, she wasn't exactly afraid, but she could tell that the man had great potential to be highly dangerous.

The man smiled sweetly, his rosy cheeks spreading out. "But I," he began, a chuckle rising from his lips as though it was all a very amusing story, "am Hansen!" When Alanna continued to stare, Hansen elaborated. "I Hansen, am the most powerful sorcerer in the world!"

The word "But" was beginning to form in Alanna's still shocked mouth, when Hansen held his hand up and went on.

"I know, I know," Hansen said, waving a short fingered hand, "what's-his-name... Ru-Ro-Re-ROGER!" He smiled when he finally put his finger on the name. "Roger of Conté. I know he's the most powerful magician in Tortall, but I come from further away than Scanra!"

Alanna couldn't help but be skeptical. The man was too enthusiastic for one, and for another, Roger wasn't _the _most powerful sorcerer in Tortall, he was _one of _them. But before Alanna could voice her confusion, Hansen had carried on in his happy-jolly way.

"Now," Hansen went on, turning around and flicking a finger so that Alanna's dresser overflowed with his own rich silks. He turned back to Alanna, "I have come to help you in your quest to defeat Roger." Hansen sighed deeply. "My powers are great, but they are in limited fields, teleportation, animal remedies, healing, I have power, but not of the sort Roger does." He pouted his lips in concentration. "Alas, a large part of the task will still remain on you, but I can help as much as the-- my magic allows."

Alanna scowled. A fiery and sharp pain lashed down Alanna's wrist. She turned around at top speed, swearing at full volume. Faithful clung to her wrist with his teeth buried deeply in her the soft flesh on the underside of it.

"DAMN, FAITHFUL!" She snarled, prying his teeth out of her skin and putting him back on the chair. The black cat refused to stay though, and leaped up onto her shoulder, hissing coldly... at Hansen.

* * *

WELL? I know, it's suspenseful isn't it? More soon! Maybe this afternoon, maybe sooner, maybe not till tomorrow! 


	9. Forget Fighting

_**Disclaimer**: Not mine. Yadda, yadda, yadda. You know the shtick!_

_**A/N**: Sorry this took so long compared to usual, I had a serious case of writer's block, at least on this story, though I am rather happy to see that Squire Princess has been doing well._

Alanna watched warily as Hansen bustled around, filling her dresser with his own trinkets. Her gaze would occasionally flick towards George, who was still sprawled asleep on Alanna's bed. A few short rays of sun flowed into the room, and Alanna chewed her thumb nail as she became more and more worried.

Finally she knew she had to do something. When Hansen walked into the privy off of her room, she ran over the bed, and knelt down next to it. "George," she whispered, shaking his shoulder firmly. Hazel eyes blinked sleepily opened. He smiled when he saw her, but frowned at the look on her face.

"What is it?" he asked, running a hand through his rumpled brown hair. Alanna put a finger over her lips, and shook her head urgently. George gave a silent nod, and slid out of the bed. He dressed in hurry as Alanna dashed over to where Faithful sat on the chair, his back tense, his fur bristled.

"I need you to distract him," Alanna whispered, stroking the little cat on the back. "Please?" she asked, meeting his violet eyes with her own, equally violet ones. The cat gave a curt nod. "Thanks." Alanna whispered, kissing Faithful softly on the head. Faithful stood up, stretched, and trotted into the privy.

Alanna gave a start when a hand rested on her shoulder, but she looked up to see George, and breathed a sigh of relief. He nodded at her, signaling that he was ready to say goodbye. "I can get out of here myself," he said, pulling his "monk" outfit on over the top of his shirt and pants.

Alanna stood up, and kissed him quickly. "Go," she urged, quietly. "Now, before Jon wakes up." But almost as if her words were a curse, Jon pounded on the door separating his room from hers.

"Open the door Alan!" Jonathan yelled. Alanna swallowed, fear on her face. "That's an _order _squire!" Jon snapped, pounding on the door with his knuckles.

George nodded as Alanna put her hand on the bolt, and slowly drew it back, unbolting the door. He grinned, and slipped out the window.

When Alanna opened the door, Jon stormed through it. "George was here, wasn't he?" he asked, raising his eyebrows coldly together. He reached out, and pulled Alanna against him. He kissed her.

Alanna tried to pull back, but Jon's arms were wrapped firmly around her shoulders, preventing her from moving. It wasn't that she didn't like the feeling, she did. But she didn't want to succumb to Jon's charm, when her heart was promised to George.

"Aha," Hansen's voice was whispery as it floated across the room to Alanna's ears. Jonathan let her go, and searched her eyes, his face hard. Alanna turned around to look at Hansen. "So I was right," he whispered softly. "You'd better agree to marry the prince," he told her, smiling coldly. "Because I plan on turning you in." He nodded. "Yes, it's me, Roger of Conté."

Faithful snarled in anger and lunged at Roger. Roger tried to step back, but was tripped by his own rich garments of silk. He fell down backwards, swearing at the top of his lungs. Guards came running at the sound, and fists began to pound on the door.

Alanna went over to open it, hanging her face in despair. Roger was right, he would turn her in, and then she wouldn't be allowed to become a knight. But she most certainly would _not _marry Jon just so she could stay at the palace. That was below her...

She barely even noticed when the guards took her arms, and dragged her out of her room. For the first time she could truly understand it, fight had left her. She was not longer a fighter, she was just the broken hurt girl who was thought to have been a boy.

Alanna watched from what felt like miles away as the pages and squires and knights assembled to say goodbye to the "traitor". She saw few truly sad faces, but there were a few. Gary looked as though he would miss her, as did Raoul, and of course Jon did too. Even Myles, the old sir, looked as though he would miss her lowly company.

"What have you to say for yourself?" the King demanded. "Betraying Tortall like this? You will go live as a commoner of Corus!"

Alanna could not even find the words to shout back. She just looked downwards in despair as it all happened to her. Dread filled her. She knew that she stood no chance of becoming a knight now...

* * *

Well? What do you guys think? That's not the end, we do have to find out what does happen to Alanna if she can't become a knight. 


	10. Resolves

_**Disclaimer**: Not mine._

Alanna felt cold all over. Her life had come to its end, she knew it. Her hands were clammy as she walked down the streets of Corus with a royal escort of guards. She had ordered them by her rights as a noble of Tortall to take her to the Dancing Dove. Who cared if she was a measly girl? She was still noble. But she had had a hard time with it anyway. She was but a female noble whose family was dead.

When the King had ordered her to chose where she wanted to live, whether she wanted to go back to Trebond and be ruled over by another, or if she wanted to become a commoner in Corus, Alanna had chosen to be taken to the Dancing Dove. She wanted to be with George for the rest of her life if she couldn't become a knight. But as time went by, her resolves came back. She would find a way to punish those who had stopped her dream... She would, if it was the last thing she ever did...

_I will continue this story, but it will be as a new story because I want to give it a new title, and I don't want to re-title this one. So look out for my next story, the story of what happens when Alanna goes to live at the Dancing Dove._


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